


(Never) Treat You Unkind

by Laylah



Category: Final Fantasy XII, Persona 3
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cop Fetish, Crossover, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-16
Updated: 2008-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinjiro doesn't really want anyone else to see him and know why he's here, but it would almost be worth it just to watch someone else figure out that the bastard cop is crooked enough to nail street kids half his age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Never) Treat You Unkind

"Come home with me."

"Maybe I got someplace to be," Shinjiro says, even though he doesn't, unless you count the back alley behind the station. He already went home with the bastard cop once, and that was more than he meant to.

"Maybe that wasn't a request," the bastard says.

Shinjiro almost asks if he's going to get cuffed and marched off to Gabranth's apartment if he refuses to cooperate, except he doesn't want to give the bastard any ideas. "Yeah, I guess my obligations can wait," he says. He'd better at least get a meal out of this.

"Smart choice," the bastard says. Shinjiro doesn't look him in the eyes, but only because he's pissed. Pissed and maybe starting to get hard.

They don't have much to say to each other on the way up to Gabranth's apartment. Gabranth stands too close to him in the elevator. Shinjiro doesn't really want anyone else to get on, to see him and know why he's here, but it would almost be worth it just to watch someone else figure out that the bastard cop is crooked enough to nail street kids half his age.

Three goddamn locks on the door when they get inside, and Shinjiro wonders if being a cop makes you paranoid or if Gabranth is worse than normal, or if it goes along with liking to have _him_ locked up, too. And once the last bolt turns with its heavy click the bastard slides an arm around him, and Shinjiro doesn't flinch because it's no secret what he's here for. Gabranth leans in and licks at Shinjiro's neck, almost bites, and Shinjiro's breath hitches a little -- this would be easier with the cuffs on, with him pinned to the wall, anything, and that pisses him off worse -- and the bastard lets go.

"Go get cleaned up," he says. "You're filthy."

Shinjiro makes himself meet the bastard's eyes, glares even though he _hasn't_ had a decent shower since the other time he came here. "If that bothers you so much," he says, "maybe you shouldn't be screwing street kids."

Gabranth smiles, lazy and slow, the way you do when you know you have the muscle and the law _and_ the gun on your side. "Here are your choices," he says. "You can go bathe now, or I can drag you in there and cuff you to the showerhead and clean you up myself."

"Fuck you," Shinjiro says, both to Gabranth and to his own traitorous cock, and walks away toward the bathroom. He wants the damn shower, even, knows he'll feel better under the hot water, but it's too much vulnerability and he doesn't want the bastard to think Shinjiro owes him, or anything.

That's supposed to go the other way around. When Shinjiro lets somebody screw him, they should owe _him_ for it. He shuts the bathroom door behind him -- no lock here, of course, nothing to guarantee him any privacy -- and strips, drops his clothes in a pile in front of the sink. He doesn't owe the bastard for just a shower, he decides. He'll just be getting dirty again afterward, right?

The water's hot, though, drumming hard against his skin and spattering against the glass door, and -- maybe they're even after this. If Gabranth feeds him. Shinjiro works shampoo through his hair. He'll get out and they'll screw, and probably it'll be kind of messy, because Gabranth seems to be really hung up on making him eat his own come -- never mind that he's getting harder when he thinks about that, about having his face shoved in it last time -- and then if he gets a meal out of it afterward he'll call it even. Just this once.

When he gets out of the water, the bathroom door is open. "Motherfucker," he says, reaching for a towel. "Where are my clothes?"

There's a click and hiss noise from the kitchen, and the bastard comes out looking pleased with himself. "Going in the wash," he says. He's taken off his gloves but not his belt, still wearing his cuffs and his gun and the rest of it.

You can't glare worth shit in a towel, but Shinjiro tries his best. "I didn't agree to any of this crap," he says. He wants to go on, wants to ask about coercion and abuse of authority and other stuff he figures Gabranth must think he doesn't know about. Only the bastard is walking up to him and just casually pushing him against the wall, tugging his towel untucked and this is exactly why Shinjiro didn't want to take the shower -- because now he's naked and pinned, and he can feel the contour of the bastard's vest under the uniform shirt, and when Gabranth gets hold of his cock he moans because he's _angry_ that it feels this good.

"Are you telling me to stop?" the bastard says. He knows exactly how Shinjiro likes his cock stroked, shouldn't know but he does. "I haven't heard you say no."

Shinjiro grits his teeth. "Fuck you," he says, because if he says no either Gabranth will listen or he won't, and both of those sound like bad options. And any second now Gabranth is going to pull away, going to stop touching him and make him earn it before he comes -- what a total bullshit concept that is -- only he doesn't, doesn't let up, and Shinjiro holds onto the bastard's shoulders and hates how broad they are and comes anyway.

And then Gabranth leans closer, and Shinjiro tries to turn his head but Gabranth catches him by the jaw to hold him still and kisses him. Gabranth's tongue in his mouth tastes like cinnamon chewing gum, and his teeth graze Shinjiro's lip, just barely, just enough to provoke an involuntary little shiver. Goddamnit, they weren't supposed to kiss.

"All right," the bastard says when he lets Shinjiro's mouth go. "Now we can get started."

"I'm done," Shinjiro says. He's being difficult for its own sake now, and he knows it's obvious, but Gabranth's so fucking smug he can't seem to help himself. He pushes at Gabranth's shoulders. It's like shoving a brick wall. "Come on, move."

Gabranth shakes his head, smirking. "Anything to keep me from going easy on you, huh?" he says. He takes half a step back and it's clearly, _obviously_ an invitation to trouble, but Shinjiro tries to push past him anyway. Maybe he likes trouble. When he moves, Gabranth grabs him again, wrenches his arm up behind his back -- not hard enough to really hurt, just hard enough to keep him still, to remind him he _could_ get hurt, easy.

"Now," Gabranth says, low and threatening, his breath on Shinjiro's neck and his hands hard on Shinjiro's wrist, on his waist, "you going to come quietly?"

Shinjiro laughs a little breathlessly. He hasn't had time to even come down from the last time, and his cock hurts with wanting to go for round two already. "You like it when I make noise," he says.

"Smartass," Gabranth says, and bites the nape of his neck. Shinjiro doesn't moan just out of spite. Gabranth pushes, steers him by his pinned arm, and Shinjiro can feel how easy it would be for the bastard to twist it right out of the socket. But he's also pretty sure that Gabranth won't, not unless Shinjiro really pushes him, and they're headed for the bedroom and he doesn't think right now he could do a good job of even pretending not to want that.

He hears the ratchet of the cuffs coming open about as soon as they get in there -- and if he had sense he'd struggle, but no, instead he goes still for it, and waits. The steel's cold around his trapped right wrist and he expects the bastard to grab his other hand, but instead Gabranth steers him further into the room, pushes him down onto the mattress. The bed's not made, and that's kind of satisfying even if Shinjiro isn't sure why, and the sheets are black. They smell like him.

Fuck, when did Shinjiro get bad enough to start thinking the bastard had a distinctive smell?

"On your back," Gabranth says, rolling him, and now he does grab Shinjiro's other hand, stretching them up toward the thin metal bars of the headboard -- figures -- and passing the chain of the cuffs between --

"Oh, fuck," Shinjiro says when the handcuff steel touches his left wrist, and Gabranth stops, meets his eyes, and Shinjiro can't bring himself to say no because he's afraid the bastard would listen. "Why like this?" he says instead. He's not sure what he means. In the cuffs, maybe. Naked. On his back. In Gabranth's own bed. Pick one.

"Because you're stubborn," Gabranth says, and the cuff ratchets tight. He doesn't say anything lame about how Shinjiro could stop him any time. That's bullshit and Shinjiro doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want to have the option on the table.

"Got me where you want me now?" he says instead. He spreads his legs a little, braces his heels against the bed.

Gabranth nods. "Looks that way," he says. He gets up, and Shinjiro half expects him to come up with some stash of pervy sex toys. But instead he just takes off his belt, sets it aside, starts to unbutton his shirt. What the hell, Shinjiro bites back. This is _not_ how it's supposed to go. This is about him and the bastard cop, and not -- Gabranth takes his shirt off, starts to undo the straps of his vest, underneath -- not _personal_. Only, you know, what's he going to do about it? He watches as Gabranth strips off the vest and the white undershirt beneath that, and when the bastard leans down to unlace his boots, Shinjiro catches the pucker of a deep scar right there, high on his right arm, almost at his shoulder. Just out of vest range. He wonders --

Goddamnit. They don't get naked for a reason.

Just one of many things they don't agree on, though, really. Gabranth strips completely and he's ripped, which isn't a surprise but annoying all the same, because it looks good. He's looking at Shinjiro like he likes what he sees, too, and Shinjiro tries to convince himself that's not okay. He's seen what he looks like in the goddamn mirror, and there's not much there to admire. Too many drugs, not enough meals.

"Cut that out," Shinjiro says, when Gabranth keeps watching him. "It's creepy."

"You think so?" Gabranth says. His smile is different when he doesn't have the uniform on. It shouldn't be, because he's still just as fucking pleased with himself, but it is. He gets up on the bed, crawls in between Shinjiro's legs and Shinjiro thinks, come on, do it already. The bastard's hard for him, and he laughs when he catches Shinjiro looking. "Wouldn't have thought you'd still be so impatient," he says.

Shinjiro huffs irritably. "Don't flatter yourself." He twists his wrists so the chain rattles. "Just thought you'd want to take advantage while you could."

Gabranth leans forward, plants his hand on the mattress beside Shinjiro's ribs. "I am," he says, and lowers his head. His lips brush Shinjiro's throat, gentle -- too fucking gentle, almost ticklish -- and Shinjiro flinches, hunches his shoulders and tucks his head. Gabranth laughs, the asshole.

And he won't let up, either. He rests his weight on both elbows so he's leaning over Shinji close enough to radiate body heat, but still not quite touching, and he drops more of those too-light kisses across Shinjiro's collarbones, down his chest, slower at scars, more careful at bruises.

"What's the _matter_ with you?" Shinjiro says, when Gabranth mouths at the bottom edge of his rib cage, wet and warm. "You're supposed to --" and he stops, because he's pretty sure admitting that he expects something is going to mean he won't get it.

"Take advantage of you?" Gabranth finishes. He looks up and meets Shinjiro's eyes and he should be gloating about this, but that's not what it looks like. "Do whatever I want with you?" He leans down again and this time his teeth scrape Shinjiro's skin for a second, but then that turns to sucking, lips and tongue and it doesn't quite _hurt_ , just makes Shinjiro ache, makes his balls tighten.

He sits up and there's a mark there, purple-red against pale skin. The bastard. But he's reaching off the side of the bed now, opening a drawer -- going for lube, or at least he'd better be, and it's about time. Shinjiro curls his hands around the bars of the headboard and braces himself for it --

If Gabranth would just hurry _up_ already, which he won't. He slides his fingers in the crack of Shinjiro's ass, wet, but he doesn't push even though Shinjiro is doing his best to breathe slowly, calmly, ready for it. They've been heading toward this since the first time he let himself get caught outside the station and didn't last long enough for a thorough frisking.

Gabranth shifts, settles down lower between Shinjiro's legs, like he wants to be close enough to watch, like he's going to -- his stubble's rough against the shaft of Shinjiro's cock, and Shinjiro makes a noise despite himself -- but he's pushing toward, not away.

"There you go," Gabranth says, and now he pushes, but gently, like he thinks Shinjiro's somehow still a virgin or something, and the gentleness is kind of disarming because then, then he doesn't _stop_ pushing, until he has his finger in there deep enough that Shinjiro's breath hitches despite himself. Gabranth licks the shaft of Shinjiro's cock and Shinjiro's grip on the bars gets tighter.

"Oh, goddamn," he says, because it's good and it's too slow and he knows the bastard is going to want him to beg, and he doesn't want to beg, he wants to curse. It's maddening, the hot tease of Gabranth's mouth -- never quite taking him in, and the scrape of stubble against wet skin burns, but he doesn't mind that -- catches himself bracing his heels and squirming, pushing down onto Gabranth's hand when the bastard stretches him out further. "You son of a bitch," he says," and his voice cracks. "Stop holding out on me."

"Something else you want?" Gabranth says. He pushes deeper -- somehow -- and Shinjiro bucks his hips, hisses.

Goddamnit. "Fuck me already, you bastard," Shinjiro says. "You waiting for me to say I want it? Fine. I want it. Do it."

He's almost sorry, because of the way Gabranth smiles when he sits up and takes his fingers out of Shinjiro's ass, but only almost, because suddenly not being touched at all is worse than having to put up with the smirking. Gabranth tears open the wrapper on a condom, and Shinjiro watches him roll it on, wonders if that's why he wouldn't actually _suck_ Shinjiro's cock -- if he's paranoid, not just an asshole.

And then Gabranth is pushing closer, lifting Shinjiro's hips so he can get his cock lined up, and they're going to do this, face to face, fuck, and Shinjiro shuts his eyes because he's not sure he wants to see the look on Gabranth's face and he's maybe worried about what his gives away. The lubed rubber is cold, and Shinjiro chews on his lip, and when Gabranth moves -- not pushing, even, but pulling Shinjiro into his lap, the _bastard_ \-- this noise gets pushed past his throat anyway.

Gabranth makes noise, too, and that almost makes it all right, this low croon that sends a shiver down Shinjiro's spine and sets his teeth on edge at the same time. It's too much, all too much, and he never should have come home with the bastard in the first place, because now -- he opens his eyes and Gabranth is watching his face, pulling him down onto the bastard's cock and watching what that does to him.

"Damnit," Shinjiro says. He pulls against the handcuffs, but that hurts, hard against the bones of his wrist, and he catches a flicker of -- that can't be _worry_ \-- in Gabranth's eyes, and stops. "I'm not going to break."

He hates the look Gabranth gives him for that, the one that says, _only because I'm not trying to hurt you_ , but this is a bad position to argue. He hooks a leg around Gabranth's waist instead, tries to pull him closer. He's had enough of this slow and careful shit.

Only it's still not up to him, and Gabranth lets Shinjiro pull him _deeper_ , sure, but doesn't go any faster. The angle's weird, lets him drive up too hard against sensitive spots, and if he doesn't hurry up and get a hand on Shinjiro's cock soon -- okay, there aren't many good threats to make in a situation like this. Fuck.

"Say the word," Gabranth says. His thumb strokes the curve of Shinjiro's hipbone.

Shinjiro shakes his head. "I don't want to," he says. "And you know it."

"Next time," Gabranth says, like a warning, and Shinjiro's face heats -- there might not _be_ a next time, asshole, and he's not going to beg then even if there is -- but he doesn't glare so much as moan, when Gabranth's hand wraps around his cock. The fancy gloves must do a good job of protecting his hands, because they're never as callused as Shinjiro thinks they should be, and that's kind of nice now when the skin's already too sensitive from earlier. From Gabranth nuzzling, _tasting_ his cock, and thinking about that makes him ache, makes him tighten without meaning to around the bastard's cock in his ass -- god, finally, after weeks of groping and snarling and almost, Gabranth is screwing him at last, slow and deep and nothing he can do about it but take it and want it and want _more_.

"Bastard," Shinjiro says, and tries to move enough to _show_ the asshole how to do it -- faster -- so he won't have to actually say so. It hurts his wrists again, makes his shoulders ache from moving at such a bad angle, and Gabranth still waits, won't cooperate -- just long enough to make a point, really, because he's an obnoxious prick and when he finally speeds up Shinjiro tells him so anyway, like hell he's going to be grateful when the bastard is calling all the shots and has just taken fucking pity on him enough to want to get him off -- and he's pretty sure he ought to keep staring the bastard down right now, to prove _his_ point, that he might come when he's called but he isn't fucking tame or anything, but Gabranth is watching him like it matters and that's not what this is about -- it's about the fucking friction, the heat of Gabranth's hand on his cock and the chill of the cuffs around his wrists, the way the deck is stacked against him and despite that he's going to, he's going to, cursing the entire time and his arms pulling taut against the handcuffs and shaking because he can't stop coming with Gabranth's cock up his ass just right -- there shouldn't _be_ a just right -- and he still has his eyes squeezed shut when Gabranth moans and rocks into him hard, so hard, and stops.

Afterward is always awkward. There's sweat cooling on his skin, and he doesn't want to shiver, because it'll seem too much like weakness, but it's hard to hold the reflex down. Shinjiro keeps his eyes closed, breathes in the smell of sweat, come, wet rubber. He doesn't want to look at Gabranth right now.

The bastard pulls out as carefully as he pushed it in to begin with, and the mattress shifts as he gets up. Shinjiro waits, tries not to get panicky about the handcuffs now that he's gotten off. First there's the sort of wet squelching noise that probably means Gabranth is getting rid of the condom, and then there's a jingle of keys. The mattress dips again, Gabranth's thigh warm against Shinjiro's side and his hands touching Shinjiro's, unlocking the cuffs and pulling Shinjiro's hands free. His touch is so fucking careful.

"You should have told me they were hurting you," he says, Shinjiro's wrist caught in his hand. The skin feels tender and bruised, hot.

"Bullshit," Shinjiro says. He tries to pull his hand away, but Gabranth just moves with him, stretches out next to him in bed. "You knew they could do that."

Gabranth makes a soft amused noise in his throat, almost a snort but not quite. "And I knew you're stubborn," he says. His arm rests across Shinjiro's ribs, and he laces his fingers with Shinjiro's, because Shinjiro isn't the only stubborn one in this bed right now. "You're right."

Shinjiro opens his eyes, looks over at Gabranth warily, and wishes he hadn't. They're not _friends_ , or anything, and the bastard shouldn't be looking at him like that. "Never thought I'd hear you say something like that," he says.

"Don't get used to it," Gabranth says, smirking, and that's obnoxious as hell but a relief at the same time. He lowers his head and kisses the knob of Shinjiro's collarbone. "If I offered to make you some food in a little bit, would I have to cuff you to the table to make you stick around and eat it?"

"I guess I could stay that long," Shinjiro says. Gabranth feels warm against his side, the whole length of his body, and he's trying not to lean into that heat. He meets Gabranth's eyes, tells himself he's perfectly calm now and he won't let this go too far. "Just don't get used to it."


End file.
